Everybody Has a Story
by SynfulLiving
Summary: 31 year-old Micah Green lives on her own in a dingy apartment in Huntington Beach, California. Her whole world is turned even more upside down when someone attacks her one day. She was, however saved by one, mysterious, Synyster Gates. (Story includes Zacky and Matt too. Summary box doesn't allow much more explanation). Micah finds herself on a crazy journey with the guys.
1. Introduction

The sun's bright and irritating glare in my eyes made me squint in a disgusted way. I always hated it when I left my blinds up, exposing the window the night before. My bed was unfortunately placed right by the window, so, if I leave the window uncovered, I'd end up being blasted in the face with annoying rays of sunlight in the morning. My apartment wasn't the cleanest of them all but it wasn't like I ever had the money to get myself a nice mansion in LA. No, I lived in Huntington Beach in California. It was a scummy slum but I had no choice. I had no money coming in. I had no college degree and no job. I was soon to be kicked out from my tiny, dirty apartment.

I sat up from my bed and rubbed at my burning eyes. I sighed and rose to my feet, stretching my arms above my head, making my muscles cramp in protest. I stay at home almost 24/7. I had no intention of getting dressed into something that would be considered 'public appropriate.' My room was scattered with clothes and various empty ramen packages. The bedroom didn't have a door. Not that it was ever necessary. I lived alone so I never needed a form of privacy in my room. I stepped out of my room and into the rather dank living area that only had an old television set, a banged up coffee table, and a raggedy sofa.

My kitchen was placed on the other side of the living room. It was quite pathetic, my kitchen. The wooden counters were blanketed in dust and most of my cupboards were empty. Only one cupboard had anything in it and it was only filled with various different ramen and one box of Great Value corn flakes. I normally didn't eat breakfast but since I didn't have dinner the night before, I decided I would put together a small bowl of corn flakes and sat down on the ratty sofa where I watched the finale episode of _Being Human. _Right as I was about to eat the last bit of cereal in my bowl, I was interrupted by a knock on my door.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. _No one ever visits me... Unless my landlord is here to kick me out, _I thought negatively. I lazily stood to my feet and opened the door wide open, only to be greeted by a black pistol's barrel pressed against the middle of my forehead. My eyes rounded instantly in terror and I stepped back, away from the door. My intruder was a tall man dressed in all black with a hood that shrouded most of his face from view. Only his murderous grin was shown.

"Micah Green, yes?" he said, as he eyed me up and down. I nodded. I was in no position to lie. His grin grew wider, if even possible.

"You're coming with me, _girl._" Just as I started to walk tentatively along with him, another voice stopped us both in our tracks.

"Drop the gun, _Phoenix._" It was another man.

"Damn _Resistance,_" my attacker spat through clenched teeth. My eyes immediately fell upon my supposed savior. He was tall, possibly taller than the attacker. He wore a black leather jacket that had its sleeves cut off to expose his muscular arms that were both filled with menacing monster tattoos. His jeans were black as well but his shoes, oddly enough, were a polished white. His shirt under the leather jacket was plain dark blue. His eyes were a beautiful shade of light hazel and his wild hair was ebony black.

"Drop the gun and release the girl. _Now,_" the man commanded sternly. My attacker pressed the barrel even harder against my head, making it start to ache horribly. But, he soon tossed the gun to the floor and turned around to face the man.

"Well, if it isn't _Gates,_" he snapped. "Last time we saw each other was when the girl's mother and father disappeared." I shuffled away from the attacker, and closer to this _Gates._

"I don't see a reason to keep you alive." Gates seemed to be ignoring the intruder's monologue.

"Is that a threat, I hear?" the intruder contested.

Gates sighed. "You never learn, do you?" He rose a glistening silver pistol from... seemingly nowhere and pulled the trigger, releasing a bullet and shooting straight through the intruder's chest. The attacker fell to the floor. His face was all revealed now. His eyes were a death-glazed blue and his hair was overgrown to cover all of his forehead. My breathing was heavy and my heart was skipping beats. _What the __**hell **__just happened?! _

"You okay?" I heard Gates ask. I nodded slowly. Physically, I was okay. Mentally, I was scarred for life.

"Good, because we need to get out of here."


	2. Chapter 1: Explanations and Attractions

"Where are you taking me?" I asked hurriedly as I was being tugged by Gates' hand. No answer. My head was spinning wildly. All of this was happening so fast. One minute, I have a gun pressed against my head. The next, this random dude who I barely know shows up out of nowhere and saves me. Who would want anything to do with me? I'm a broke chick who lives in a dingy apartment with no job and no real socialization. What's so special about me, that I have a group of people that want to kidnap me, and another group of people that want to help me. This was all so utterly confusing.

While it was confusing, I could at least gather enough information from the whole mess to know that this situation wasn't just a simple 'kidnap and torture.' Oh no, this seemed to be a far greater issue. I shook my head free of the jumbling thoughts and jerked my arm from his grasp. We both came to a dead halt, right in the middle of the dark stairway of the apartment building. He stared back at me, his light, quite seductive hazel eyes showing a gleam of frustration. Something told me he wasn't a very patient guy.

"What are you doing?" he asked finally, folding his arms over his chest irritatedly.

"What am _I _doing? What the hell are _you _doing? You can't just show up and expect me to follow you right there. Why did this all happen in the first place?" I demanded, glaring at him. I do have to admit, though, it was almost impossible to hold a steady glare on him; his handsome looks continued to wash over my senses.

"I don't have time for this," he muttered under his breath, shuffling his hand around in one of his jacket pockets.

"Like hell, you don't have time!" I exclaimed furiously. He pulled out a little, dart-like needle and, with just one blink of my eyes, it was buried into my inner wrist.

"Sorry. But I _really _don't have time," he said as my vision grew blurry and black. I began to fall, and, at the last second of my consciousness, I was caught by him. _Damn you. All I wanted was answers,_ I thought before my mind went completely blank.

My eyes slowly fluttered open. My wavy brunette hair draped over my face in an indistinct pattern and my head ached horribly. When I came to, I found myself in a dank room(much like my apartment, really). A lonely little cheap LED lamp/chandelier swung above my head a little from the cold draft that whistled throughout the room. The carpet was a simple white. At least _it _was clean. I couldn't really say that for the rest of the room. The sofa was torn in many spots and dust floated around, polluting the air.

I propped myself up on one hand and brushed my hair away from my face and behind my ear, some of the tangles getting wound up in my three cartilage rings. I took my free hand and rubbed at my sore neck. I noticed my right wrist, of which I'd held myself up on, was bruised with a sickly blue. In the middle of the discoloration, was a tiny little red dot. I then, remembered of how I'd managed to become unconscious in the first place.

I sighed and glared at the front door of the house I was in.

"You _do _know this is a house, right? It has more than one room." The voice was familiar.

"Gates," I growled quietly.

"_You _don't get to call me that. We're unfamiliar, therefore, I won't allow you to call me by my informal name," he said sternly. I didn't bother looking behind me. I knew he was there. And I had the distinct feeling he was wearing a smug face.

"You're such an ass Gates." _That _caught my attention. It was another voice, male, by the sound of it.

"Yeah Gates. You're so self-important." And another voice, also male, spoke up. I heard Gates sigh and then I felt a tap on my shoulder which made me flinch. I turned around and came face-to-face with Gates.

"Look. However annoying they are, they're my friends and comrades. I don't know you s-"

"Jesus Christ, dude. For God's sake. Call him Syn, woman. He's bad at getting straight to the point." My eyes drifted from Gates… or… Syn, rather, to a man who was only slightly shorter than Syn. He had sleek black hair with short bangs that were swept over to the right side of his forehead and grey, green-blue eyes. Like Syn, he wore almost all-black. He had a grey shirt that advertised Jack Daniels and his jeans were only a very dark grey that seemed to be black. He had a ring-piercing on either side of his bottom lip. He looked to be an interesting character, a lot more laid back than Syn, I would guess.

Syn was flipping a little, red lighter on and off. He was obviously annoyed. I looked to the third man in the room. He was leaning against a wall in the corner. He was taller than both Syn and the other guy. He wore, what looked to be a black baseball cap backwards on his head and dark sunglasses over his eyes. His arms were both swirled with many tattoos. In fact, I think all of the guys had tattoo sleeves on both arms. His shirt was a simple plain black, also, with its sleeves cut off at the shoulders. Both his shoes, and his jeans were solid black. They all weren't much for color.

An eerie and rather uncomfortable silence washed over the dark room. Syn had apparently lit a cigarette while I wasn't looking. I, hesitantly so, broke the silence. Since I never got an answer as to why everything of the entire day happened to me. And when I _did_ ask, Syn knocked me out with what seemed to be an animal tranquilizing dart.

"Could any of you maybe fill me in on what happened?" I asked, politely at first. But when they all ignored me, I got overly angry.

"Look, I appreciate you saving me and all. But if you're not going to tell me anything, I'm leaving," I snapped, quickly hopping to my feet and heading towards the door.

"You can do that," Syn started. I turned back to face him. He pulled the cigarette away from his mouth and blew smoke out in a single, steady breath.

"But be warned, we aren't willing to save your ass again once you get caught," he continued, staring at me from the side, his hazel eyes boring holes straight into mine.

"Unfortunately, Gates, keeping her safe is our job. Suck it up and act a little older than a five-year-old for once," the man in the corner said.

"How about you act a little younger than your own father, Matt," Syn retorted, though not making any eye contact with the man in the corner. I assumed the man in the corner was Matt.

"Jesus Christ! Someone fill the woman in so she can stop complaining!" the other guy shouted over Syn and Matt's argument.

"Shut up for just _two _seconds, Zacky," Syn shouted back. _Why do they all have such odd names? _I thought to myself as I was getting slightly amused by them all yelling at each other. But the short amusement dissipated. I still didn't have answers, and that infuriated me.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, my eyes fueling a fire. They all went silent, but continued to stare each other down.

"Tell me _what the hell _is going on, or I leave this house and never come back! You guys obviously need me for something. Just tell me what it is." Zacky, whom I figured out was the man who was only slightly shorter than Syn, stood up and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"Don't you _dare_," Matt warned him.

"We can't keep knocking her out and dragging her places, Matt. We might as well spill it," Syn sighed, tapping his finger on the cigarette to dump the ashes into a little, rusty tray. He smirked a bit and added, "and I don't think Chris would be too happy with the amount of harm overdosing tranquilizers would do to her." _Chris? _That was my brother's name, but he died when I was still very young. He was ten years older than me. He ran away, from what my mother told me. He never turned up again, so we assumed he was dead… especially thirty years after he left. I waved it off. There were a lot of people named 'Chris' in the world.

"Have you forgotten that pots, pans and rocks are things?" Matt joked. So he _does _have a sense of humor… to an extent. His facial expression never changed. No matter how 'jokester' the three guys get, I still demanded an answer.

_Syn's POV_

Though Zacky was the one about to explain our reasons for saving the woman, he said nothing and just sat back down on the ratty sofa. I looked back to Matt. _He _obviously didn't want to be the one to explain the recent events. I groaned in a complaining way.

"You people are such babies," I muttered, averting my attention back to the woman. I guess I should call her Micah. That _is _her name after all.

"The guy who attacked you earlier today was from a scavenger organization called _Phoenix Fire._ We were given the task to keep you safe from them," I explained, puffing smoke from my mouth. She looked completely and utterly confused. However annoying she seemed to me, she was definitely a beautiful woman. She had light green eyes that sparkled in any light, and long, brunette hair that didn't have a single tangle in it. Her cheeks were dappled with tiny, almost invisible freckles that gave her a youthful look. I couldn't help but be only a little attracted to her. What? I'm a man. It's in my blood to find women attractive.

"Okay. That still doesn't answer why I'm being attacked, and why you guys seem to have the job to keep me from their grasp," she said, her brows furrowing in confusion. Still no help from either Zacky or Matt. _Dicks,_ I thought silently.

"You remember three years ago when your parents died? You got an inheritance," I said, my eyes drifting down to the little silver ring that dangled from a tiny chain around her neck. She nodded and followed my gaze, her fingers now toying with the polished ring.

"What, this? Yeah. It's just a ring, though. What's so special about it?" she asked.

"It's not made out of silver. The substance it's made out of is a very valuable metal. Even we've yet to know what it's made out of. All we _do _know is that Phoenix Fire wants it." For how much unbelievable information is being fed to her, I was quite surprised with her lack of shock. She seemed rather calm actually.

I decided to continue, "we were given the task to keep you away from them by our boss, Chris." I was hesitant to add more, because what I would reveal would definitely throw her over the edge. I stared back at Matt and Zacky. They both nodded, and I turned back to Micah.

"Your brother… Chris."


	3. Chapter 2: Smiles and Stories

_Micah's POV_

I didn't get a single wink of sleep last night. My brother is alive? And on top of that, somehow protecting me through his colleagues, Syn, Zacky, and Matt? The conversation the night before dragged on for about another ten minutes the next morning. The only new information I got out of Syn that morning was that they called themselves _The Resistance. _I found it weird, however, that Syn was really the only one who talked to me. I mean, when I first met him, he seemed rather grumpy around me. But now, he's a little more open to conversations with me.

The only breakfast we had that morning was a cup of coffee and then we were off; out the door and into a black van, where we drove off to the airport in LA. I asked Syn where we were going, but we were back to the 'silent game.' I sighed and thought about the conversation Syn and I had right before we left. I noticed he brought a guitar case along with him. I assumed he played guitar and he agreed and also told me that his guitar was a cover for his gun.

It seemed the only kind of conversation I could have with the guy was 'small talk.' But I guess couldn't complain because Zacky and Matt barely talked to me at all. I ended up unconsciously staring at Syn's face the entire way to the airport, admiring his seemingly perfect features: his crazy, yet sexy wild hair, his stunning hazel eyes, his lean but muscular build. He was _the _example of what every man should look like. I got the sense he knew I was staring at him, but he didn't seem to care that much.

It was when we parked in the parking garage that I realized I was the only one wearing dumpy pajamas _and _I was the only one of the group that didn't have any luggage. I also didn't have any shoes. I was stuck with my crappy pajamas and bare feet. Not only was I frustrated, but I was humiliated. There were people walking by who stared and glowered. Matt and Zacky had no intention of caring about my petty embarrassment, but Syn, for some odd reason, actually had a hint of concern for the matter.

What infuriated me the most, though, was the fact that neither of them told me. I ended up walking my way through security and all the way to the gate in my God-awful attire, before Syn finally offered one of his plain black shirts and a pair of jeans. I gratefully took him up on the offer and went to the bathroom to change. The shirt was a little long, but I fixed that by simply taking one of my hair ties and tying a knot to the side, making the shirt tighter and shorter. The jeans were also way too long, but I dealt with it by rolling up the legs into cuffs around my ankles. It was plain-looking, but it was a thousand-times better than my ugly pajamas.

My thoughts kept me in the bathroom a little longer, with the leading thought being, _Why is Syn suddenly so nice to me? _

_Syn's POV_

"Why are you nice to the woman, but not us? Come on, bros before hoes," Zacky complained. I sighed. Zacky could be a real whiner-baby sometimes. Nevertheless, he _is _one of my closest friends.

"I guarantee you wouldn't offer any clothes to me if I was dressed like that in an airport," he continued.

"She gets a pass," I replied.

"Why, because she's hot? You've been down that road before Brian. I don't think you want a repeat," Matt butted in. I rolled my eyes.

"No, you dick. It's not just because she's hot. You _do _remember that we kind of just left her apartment without any warning. It's not like she had time to pack anything," I said, reaching into my jacket pocket and getting ahold of a pack of Marlboro cigarettes when I remembered we were in an airport.

"Fuck," I muttered, replacing the pack into my pocket. I turned my head toward the restrooms, just beginning to wonder why she was taking so long. Right as I began to have that thought, she appeared from the women's restroom. I knew my clothes would be big on her, but I didn't think she'd have to make it so that my jeans weren't under her feet. I didn't really care because the way she made the jeans and shirt fit tightly around her body revealed all the mature curves I couldn't see when she was wearing her baggy pajamas. _There are surprises around every corner, I guess. _

She was still barefoot, but I unfortunately couldn't help her with that. I got one pair of shoes, and those shoes were _mine._ My shoes were extremely expensive. I'm not letting anyone wear them other than me. She sat down in the seat next to me. I could see just a little pink tint rise into her cheeks, which made her look even more adorable. I tried to hold back a smile. _What was I thinking? I barely know her. Snap out of it, Brian. You're better than this. _

"Thanks," she said finally. My weak attempt at holding back a smile failed me. I let a little smirk tug at the corners of my mouth.

"No problem," I answered, though trying to look anywhere but her eyes. _God, this isn't high school, Brian! Wake the fuck up! You're __**just **__her bodyguard. Nothing more will happen between us. _I was saved by the call to board the plane. I sighed a silent breath of relief. Once we sat ourselves down in our respective seats in the back of the plane, me, of course, being seated next to Micah, I was given teasing glares from both Zacky and Matt. In response, I discretely threw up my middle finger at them and stared at the seat in front of me. Micah was in the window seat and she seemed rather fascinated by the works of the air-traffickers.

I cleared my throat awkwardly before speaking up. "You ever been on a plane before?" She shook her head in response. That explains the unusual fascination.

"Are you afraid at all?" I asked her, somewhat curious because I know that I was scared shitless on my first flight when I was nine-years-old. Another shake of the head.

"No. While I never was able to fly. I always wanted to be a pilot. My mom and dad told me how great airplanes were and that my grandfather was an Airforce pilot. He got to do cool missions and such. I thought it would be fun," she stated, her hand clutching at the ring dangling from her neck. I guess talking about her family, especially the deceased ones, was saddening. I remember her father and mother. Yes, I knew them. And I tried to protect them for the same reason I'm protecting Micah now: the ring.

But I failed in saving them. The same Phoenix that attacked Micah yesterday, was also the one who'd murdered her parents.


	4. Chapter 3: Live and Love

_Micah's POV_

I didn't know how amazing airplanes really were. The take off was awesome. The plane rises so fast that the lights on the ground below turned into tiny, little orange dots. There were cities everywhere and the white, puffy clouds below the plane were beautiful. I noticed that, while I stared at Syn for the car trip to the LA airport, Syn stared at me for a decent chunk of the plane trip. I guess we both found each other attractive, though I found Syn not only attractive, but actually kind of adorable. He had a 'tough guy' attitude at first with me, but then his personality became more and more cute. I'm not sure he could say the same about me, though. I lack skills in the social department.

"So, where is it we're going? You didn't really answer me when I asked before," I asked him politely.

"Alaska," he said, looking away from me as if he wasn't staring at me in the first place. I canted my head to the side curiously.

"Why Alaska?"

"No one ever looks in Alaska," he replied with a smirk of amusement. I smiled in return. It was true. Alaska tends to be a place no one checks first. Our conversation dragged on for a while and I realized just how alike we were. We like all the same things: metal music, ramen noodles, pranks and jokes, sleeping… We also hated all the same things too: the cold, sunlight in the morning, being told what to do… We were very similar. It was nice to know that there was at least _one _person who would understand me.

We eventually got burned out of conversations to make, so we took a break. I decided to watch whatever movie was playing on the screen in front of me, while Syn went back to admiring me. Or was he? I noticed, through the corner of my eye, that his hazel eyes widened and he seemed to be staring through the window. I didn't have enough time to ask what was wrong before he shoved me down and shouted, "get down!"

I saw Matt and Zacky duck down just before a loud crash erupted overhead, the plane shaking violently as a large object barrels into the cabin, tearing the entire top off the plane. I shivered in the sudden blast of cold wind ripping through the plane. So many other passengers were flung out into the reaches of the sky. I was hyperventilating. The pressure all the way up in the air was too much for my weak lungs to handle. The plane began to fall from the sky, straight down to the ocean below.

"We're gonna die!" I screamed over the roaring wind in my ears.

"No we're not," Syn replied, releasing his seatbelt and struggling his way to the very front of the plane. The first half of the plane wasn't damaged but the pilots must've been knocked out from the massive amounts of thrashing. Was he suicidal? I looked to my side. Zacky and Matt were still ducked down, clutching their seats in their hands.

"What's he doing?!" I yelled over to them.

"He's going to try and pilot the plane!" Zacky said.

"What the hell? He's not a pilot, is he?" I continued.

"Not technically. But he knows how to fly a plane!" Matt piped up. Syn apparently has a list of skills a mile long. I still found myself almost completely out of breath. While the pressure _was _easing up by the rapid descent of the plane, I was still breathless from the fact that we'd most likely plummet to our deaths in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I felt the plane level out a little bit. It was now tilted diagonally to make a better crash-landing… A better chance to live. I squinted my eyes shut tightly as bitter saltwater engulfed my body and the plane. Everything was pitch black and I couldn't tell whether my body's systems worked anymore.

_Syn's POV_

I felt chills shoot straight up my spine and down again. The ocean was horribly freezing cold. I'd only caught a small glimpse of the object that had destroyed the plane's cabin. It was a drone, black, slightly smaller than the plane, and with the mark of the Phoenix Fire on it: a red fire emblem with a flaming bird lying dead under the fire. It was a rather disturbing symbol. I was able to swim my way up to the water's surface with the help of the seat cushion that doubled as a floatation device.

When I reached the surface, I spotted Matt and Zacky. Zacky was somehow able to save my guitar from sinking and being lost in the deep of the sea. The case floated anyway, but it could fill with water and sink if I wasn't careful. But Micah was missing. I began to panic.

"Where did she go?" I asked them, trying to keep calm.

"We don't know," they sounded equally as panicked. If we lost Chris's sister, we would surely be kicked off a cliff. But it wasn't like they cared more than I did. Something about her kept me wanting to know more. I wasn't about to lose that opportunity just yet. I let go of the flotation cushion and dived down to the wreckage of the plane that seemed to have luckily gotten snagged on an undersea shelf. I swam lower and lower, my ears popping painfully as I did. I caught sight of flowing brunette hair and I swam faster downward. My breath was running out. I needed to get her out quick.

I unfastened the belt that draped over her legs and braced her arm over my shoulders, kicking off the wreckage and struggling my way up again. I started to feel very lightheaded but I pressed on. I was almost to the top. _Almost there,_ I told myself. I reached my hand up and was pulled the rest of the way by Matt. Zacky took Micah from my grasp while I reached for the flotation cushion again. My breathing was harsh and rugged. I looked over to Zacky who was checking Micah's pulse.

He nodded to me. "She's still alive. But we'll probably have to find a way to get the water out of her lungs." I felt relief wash over me. But why was I relieved in the first place? As far as I know, the closest we are is friends. _Yeah, that's right… friends… friends find relief when their friends don't die? Right? _Except not… I felt more for this woman than just friends. But I only met her a day ago… so why do I feel this way?


	5. Chapter 4: Denial and Hospitals

_Syn's POV_

_~A couple days later~_

Micah was just beginning to come to. She was still very disoriented and kept falling in and out of sleep. It most likely had something to do with the fact that, from the looks of it, her head was smashed pretty hard on something within the plane upon impact. There was a heavy wound on the side of her head. A search helicopter came across us about a day ago and we all had our own injuries to patch up once we got to a hospital in Seattle.

I had a broken left wrist. When I found that out, I almost shouted in frustration. The hand I used for fretboard chords on a guitar was my left hand. Matt had a broken nose, a concussion, and a fractured kneecap. And Zacky had a concussion, and a broken arm. Micah had a few cracked ribs and the head injury, or which we found out was a skull fracture. She wouldn't be out of the hospital for at least a week, is what the doctors and nurses told us. Guess, Alaska's gonna have to wait.

While there were news reporters and photographers hunting us down because we were 'survivors of the worst airplane crash in a decade,' we refused all of them. We couldn't risk being found. But the question is, how did Phoenix Fire find us while we were in the airplane in the first place? Matt and Zacky repeatedly teased me for staying in the hospital 24/7 with Micah. Matt, Zacky and I were all free to go, but micah wasn't. While she _was _pretty out of it, I could still have the occasional laugh with her before she falls back asleep. Man, the painkillers and sleep drugs in hospitals are some powerful shit. I don't fully believe it was the skull fracture that kept her very tired and groggy. It probably also had something to do with the effect of the painkillers.

I really, honestly don't know what kept me so attracted to her. She was hot but she wasn't a basic bitch. She actually _has _a personality despite her lack of socialization. And she laughs a lot even though her life hasn't gone so well for the past three or four years. She's everything any guy could ask for. I actually really regret acting like a total douchebag when I first met her. You don't hear that from me very often. What I found particularly amusing, however, is one point when I could talk to her before she went back asleep, she told me she was dreaming about me.

I didn't quite know whether that was _her _talking or the strong drugs. Either way, I let myself believe it was her saying that. I found it extremely odd that we act like we've known each other for a long time when, really, we've known each other for four days. I normally wouldn't believe in 'love-at-first-sight,' but I'm starting to get a gut feeling that's what's happening. I'd never felt this way around a girl I'd met so recently before.

I was actually told to leave and go home… or… a hotel, rather, by the nurses three times today. To be honest, I kind of just slept on the floor in the corner of Micah's room for the past three nights. I got some looks from the nurses and I just _knew _that they were thinking something along the lines of, 'you must really love her.' With that, if they said that outloud, I would've responded with, 'tell me about it,' and probably roll my eyes.

Unfortunately, it wasn't too long ago that I found out my, now ex-girlfriend, had been cheating on me for months. I believe that break up was about a month or two ago. I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. She was a bitch from the start anyway. Still, I was left devastatingly heartbroken. I wouldn't let the same thing happen again. That's why I was so confused. How do we already act like we're in a love relationship? It made no sense. I'm sure she was thinking the same thing.

_Micah's POV_

I was finally able to stay awake for more than five minutes at a time. I found it quite sweet, but, also kind of confusing that Syn had stayed in the hospital with me while Matt and Zacky did their own things. It was like, even though we met each other just four days ago, we were rapidly growing together like we were meant to be. But who am I kidding? The guy only thinks of me, at the most, as a friend. I've had two relationships before and both resulted in the guys getting arrested for domestic abuse. I was pretty closed off to any relationship awaiting me. But this time, it seems different. It was like we were meant to be together from the point where he saved me. I'm not normally a forgiving person, but I somehow already forgave Syn for knocking me out with a tranquilizer.

My eyes fluttered open once again and the first thing I saw was an adorable sight of Syn curled up in the corner of my room, sleeping under a bath towel. I had to admit, he was cute when he wanted to be and even cuter when he didn't want to be. I smiled, amused at his slumbering form. Apparently, he didn't know that there were extra blankets in the cupboards that were attached to the ceiling. I'm sure a tall guy like him could get ahold of a blanket or two. I certainly couldn't reach the cupboards, but he could. _Not an observant one, I see, _I thought, my amusement only growing.

I guess it was late at night because no sunlight came through my window and barely any activity was going on outside my room. I sighed. The problem with falling in and out of sleep was the fact that I woke up on irregular terms. I wasn't so tired anymore, so I suppose the nurses or doctors eased up on the painkillers. I only had a slight headache, but I guess that comes with a fracture to the head. No, none of the doctors or nurses told me this. They were in and out of my room, so the chances were that they caught me awake were slim.

Syn told me. He was in my room for the past three days I'd been here. I know Matt and Zacky probably gave him a lot of crap for it. Syn's sweeter than I thought. Matt and Zacky haven't let up on their tough guy acts but Syn has. And I'm very curious to know why.


	6. Chapter 5: Dangerously Close

_Syn's POV_

_~Four Days Later~_

Micah was discharged from the hospital and I was able to take her back to the hotel Matt and Zacky said they were staying at. She had just a minor little headache and really sore ribs, I would imagine. Cracking that many ribs and not having a single one puncture her lungs is near impossible. Along with her headache was a decent amount of dizziness, so I let her lean on me on our way up to the fourth floor of the hotel, where Matt and Zacky were staying. Zacky had taken my guitar with him on his way out of the hospital five days ago. I just hoped he didn't misplace it somewhere.

I knocked on the door which was labeled _424\. _Locks clicked from inside the room and the door swung open. Matt was standing at the door with a smug look on his face.

"I see the two lovebirds have returned from a long stay at the hospital," he remarked with a smirk. I rolled my eyes and pushed past him.

"Fuck off, Matt," I muttered as I lazily spread myself out on one of two beds in the room.

"I never thought I'd forget how comfortable beds are," I sighed. I noticed that Matt looked to Micah with a confused expression and Micah just laughed at me.

"He slept on the floor every night while I was at the hospital," she explained to him. Matt's smirk grew to a sly grin. _Enter teasing here, _I thought hopelessly. I sat up and stared around the room. My guitar case was leaning up against the wall in the far corner of the room.

"Where's Zacky?" I asked almost in unison with Micah. Apparently she was thinking the same thing.

"He went out to get some coffee across the street," Matt replied. I nodded and laid back down on the bed. Then, a thought hit me, which made me shoot straight up, grab Matt's arm, and drag him out into the hallway, leaving Micah in the room alone.

"Did you do this on purpose?" I whispered to him. He obviously knew what I was talking about because he grinned evilly.

"What? You don't mind sharing a bed with Micah, do you?" he said, his grin growing wider, from ear-to-ear.

"What do you mean I don't mind? Of course I mind, you ass," I hissed, "besides, doesn't that mean you and Zacky have to share the other bed?" That thought made me almost burst into a fit of laughter.

"No," Matt said simply. The amusement vanished.

"Zacky volunteered to sleep on the floor… Of course, you wouldn't mind sleeping on the floor, would you? You _did _do that for the past seven days," he mocked.

"My back is already fucked up as it is from doing that. And it's not like I can make Micah sleep on the floor. She's still in pain."

"So you _do _care."

"What?" I was confused now.

"You said, the night before we left for the airport, when she'd fallen asleep, that you didn't care about her, you just care about getting the job done. You're all talk when it comes to women, Brian," Matt continued to tease me. I had nothing more to say. I was stumped for once. I can't win my way out of this one.

_Micah's POV_

_~A Few Hours Later~_

It was nighttime. Thank God, I didn't think I could last one more second in the sunlight. It just made my headache worse. I was told some… awkward news. Matt had gotten a bed by himself, while Zacky volunteered to sleep on the floor. And… Syn and I… unfortunately so, have to share a bed. For the rest of the night, we tried to keep ourselves as far away from each other as possible, me being on the edge of one side of the bed, and Syn being on the other edge of the bed. It was rather unsettling for the both of us.

But while _I _couldn't sleep, Syn definitely could. After about three hours of trying to keep my distance from him, I simply went, 'Fuck it,' and went to sleep.

I woke up to blinding sun in my face and I gazed down at the clock that was situated on the nightstand. _7:37_, it read. I narrowed my eyes at it in annoyance. _It's too early to be awake, _I thought lazily. But something else was wrong. I felt a strange warmth drape over my side. I soon realized, through the trail of tattoos, that Syn's arm had fallen over my body while we were asleep. You see? This is exactly why I don't share beds with people.

I heard snickering come from the end of the bed and I shot straight up, making Syn jolt awake. Matt and Zacky were standing at the end of the bed. Zacky had his phone's camera pointed right at us, and a flash blinded me more than the sunlight.

"Aww… Who says love doesn't exist? This should go on the internet. What do you think, Matt?" Zacky teased, bursting into laughter.

"Oh, fuck off you morons!" Syn shouted before jumping out of the bed and tackling Zacky to the ground.

"You are deleting that picture," Syn demanded, pinning Zacky face down to the floor.

"Come on, Gates. We were just messin' with ya," Matt butted in, trying to hold back a laugh.

"I don't care! You're deleting that picture," Syn repeated, pressing Zacky down harder against the ground.

"Okay! Okay! I'll delete the picture. Just get off of me!" Syn let him up and watched very closely and seriously as Zacky deleted the picture.

"Thank you," Syn sighed. While I was somewhat traumatized by being caught in accidental cuddling with Syn, I couldn't help but laugh a bit at Syn's reaction.

We all didn't have any spare clothes to change into that morning after we all had taken our showers and done our various morning rituals, so we decided that, before we try to flee somewhere else _but _Alaska, we would go shopping and such. It was kind of disturbing to think about the fact that, not only had we all been wearing the same clothes for seven days, but we also got soaked by saltwater. I was surprised no mold had grown on our clothes. It was then, that I remembered, I still didn't have shoes.

I ended up walking around the clothing store with no shoes… Fun times, I guess. Nonetheless, I picked up some simple sneakers along with plain shirts and jeans. I'd never been known for flamboyant style. I'm a plain girl. Syn, Matt, and Zacky did the same thing, but I guess Syn felt it was important to pick up a black leather jacket too. They all loved black, it seemed.

That was pretty much our day. When we got back to the hotel, we all just took short naps or sat around.

_Syn's POV_

Micah and I ended up coming to terms with sleeping in the same bed. I couldn't bring myself to fall asleep though. It wasn't that I felt uncomfortable, rather, I didn't want an awkward repeat of what happened this morning. I sighed and quietly slipped out of the bed, grabbing my guitar case and silently leaving the room. I took the stairs up to the roof of the hotel and laid down on the gravel roofing, staring up at the twinkling stars. After five minutes of relaxing under the night sky, I unboxed my guitar. It had horizontal black and white stripes across it and the fretboard had a deathbat and _SYN _imprinted on it in bold silver letters.

Sure, I had no amp for it, but who says you can't play guitar without one? I can play it perfectly fine. I began playing one of my solos that I'd made up a few years back. I remember all of my solos by heart.

"You're pretty good," I heard a familiar voice speak from behind me. It was Micah's voice.

"Why are you up?" I asked her as I halted my strumming. She sat down next to me and examined my guitar.

She shrugged and replied, "I'm a light sleeper. I noticed you'd left when you got out of bed." I made a face that said, 'oh.'

"That was a cool solo," she said, meeting my eyes with her light green ones.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, "yeah. I play a bunch of solos. Depending on what mood I'm in, they're different."

"So what mood was that one? It sounded like denial or sadness to me," she continued with a curious quirk of the brow. _Damn. _She was right too. I'm attracted to her without even really knowing her. The solo I was playing was one that I wrote after the nasty break up I had a couple months ago. I was unconsciously playing it because I'm feeling the same way I did back then-in denial. I didn't know what to do about this situation. I liked a woman I barely knew.

"You're right," I said hesitantly. She frowned and said nothing more. Either she knew why I was in denial, or she simply didn't know what to say.


	7. Chapter 6: Almost There

_Syn's POV_

Micah and I, unexpectedly so, fell asleep on the roof. Luckily, none of us were caught in an awkward situation that morning. The unfortunate thing, however, was that we were woken up by the rain. Droplets soaked our clothes and hair and we took cover at the top of the stairway leading to the rooftop. We stayed there for a while before deciding to head back to the hotel room, knowing we would both be given crap for being alone on the roof all night.

I opened the door to the room and placed my guitar down gently against the wall and collapsed on the bed, Micah following suit. Zacky and Matt were still asleep. Lucky us. I fell asleep yet again. And I was too tired to care.

_Micah's POV_

Syn had fallen asleep almost immediately after we got back to the hotel room. I remembered the conversation we had last night. He agreed with me when I said his guitar solo sounded like it was being played out of denial. But what denial could he possibly have? Could it be the same denial I'm experiencing? Attraction towards each other without reason? That's what my denial was caused by. No. It was highly unlikely. Syn didn't seem the type to be easily wooed by any random girl he meets.

Syn stirred in his sleep, making me wonder what he could've been dreaming about. He seemed to move around a lot when he dreamt.

_~Later That Day, Syn's POV~_

"Yo, Gates," Matt called from the bathroom.

"Yeah?" I answered, looking up from a random magazine I started to read.

"I think you should take the woman shooting. She could pick up some skills from you, and at least be able to defend herself if anything were to happen," he replied. Micah had gone back up to the roof about an hour ago.

I sighed, "sure." I jumped out of the bed and fished my pistol out of my guitar case, loading a round into the gun. I grabbed two more rounds… just in case.

"I'll be back in a couple hours," I said as I shut the door and walked down the hallway and up the stairway to the roof. Micah was spread out on the gravel, staring up at the clouds and bright blue sky.

"Micah," I said, announcing my presence.

"Oh. Hi, Syn," she greeted, looking behind her to meet my eyes, "what do you need?" she asked politely.

"We're going shooting," I replied bluntly. She furrowed her brows in confusion.

"I understand why, but where?" she asked.

"There's an abandoned target range out in the outskirts of town," I answered.

"Oh. Okay." Her face simply radiated unhappiness.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting down next to her in the gravel. She shook her head.

"It's nothing, really. Just a certain… issue is going on." My brows knitted together. And with that one sentence… now I knew, that we were both in denial for the same reason. We weren't just attracted to each other, but we were in love with each other. But why?

_Micah's POV_

I simply refused to accept that I was in love with Syn. I'd been down that road before… with both of my previous abusive boyfriends, in fact. And I'm not willing to go down it again. Syn and I waved down a taxi, which drove us about a mile out from this supposed abandoned shooting range. We ended up having to walk the last mile to the range. When we got there, it was very secluded. Aspens and pines towered over us and lush, green grass sprouted from every inch of the ground. It was beautiful.

I settled my eyes upon a medium-sized, red and white target about fifty feet away from us. I guess, that's what we're gonna be shooting.

"Ever shot before?" Syn asked, pulling his gun from an inner pocket within his new leather jacket.

"No," I said simply, eyeing the pistol he had in his hand.

"Do you know anything about shooting?" he continued.

I nodded and replied, "yeah. Sort of. Really just that you aim as best you can and pull the trigger." He smiled a bit.

"That's actually almost all you have to do." He handed me the pistol. I made damn sure to keep my finger away from the trigger for the time being.

"Pull the trigger," he instructed. I stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Don't you want me to aim first?"

"Do you trust me?" he asked in a serious tone. I hesitatingly nodded.

"Then pull the trigger." And I did. I was utterly confused. Nothing happened.

"Why didn't-"

"The safety's on," he said, pointing to a little red switch at the top of the gun.

"Never turn the safety off unless you're about to shoot. It's common knowledge," he informed, "now, you can aim it at the target." I rose the gun in front of me, aiming at the target with both hands firmly gripping it.

"Turn the safety off," he said. One of my thumbs clicked it off.

"Don't shoot just yet." I held my stance. I suddenly felt Syn's hand on mine, making my cheeks heat.

"Keep both eyes open. You're aiming to the right. With both eyes open, you have a better chance at hitting the middle," he said, his voice lowering in tone. I opened my other eye and readjusted the aim. Syn's other hand braced my elbow.

"W-what are you doing?" I stammered, though not taking my eyes off the target.

"Bracing you. Trust me. You're gonna need it," he replied. I refocused on the target, placing my pointer finger on the trigger. I took a deep breath and tried my best to hold my shaky hands steady. Syn, noticing my shaky aim, placed his hand under the gun to make it more sturdy.

I pressed down on the trigger and a bullet shot straight out, hitting the target just a little to the left of the bullseye. I finally got where Syn was coming from when he told me I would need the bracing. The kickback was pretty heavy and I'm sure it bruised my hand.

"Pretty good," he complimented. "From the looks of it, though. You see to shoot to the left a bit. We could work that out in time." I nodded and lowered the gun to my side.

"Safety," Syn reminded me with an amused smirk. I quickly flipped the little red switch to the off position. I shook my bruised hand out and looked up to him.

"I'm not going to brace you on the next one. You think you'll be okay?" he asked. I nodded again and averted my attention back to the target, raising the pistol up in front of me once again and flipping the safety off. I took in a slow and steady breath and this time, I succeeded in keeping my hands still. I pulled the trigger back slowly until the bullet was released from the barrel and punctured just outside the bullseye, again, slightly to the left. The kickback was even stronger on this one and the force had made my bruised hand hurt even worse.

I flipped the safety back on and looked down at my pained hand. Syn gently grasped my hand and stared at it.

"There's a way you can avoid this," he said meeting my eyes with his warm hazel ones.

"How?" I asked, curious.

"You can get you hands down lower on the grip."

"Oh," I responded. Though I only shot twice, I was kind of tired.

"I'd love to continue. But I'm pretty tired," I told him. He shrugged.

"That's fine. You want to go to a bar or something? It might help with whatever was on your mind earlier," he offered. I nodded and handed the gun back to him. He called up a taxi and we were taken back into the city.


	8. Chapter 7: Confessions and Failed Secret

_Syn's POV_

We asked the taxi to drop us off at a bar not too far from the hotel we were staying at. We ordered a bunch of random drinks, beers, and shots that simply sounded interesting. At least an hour later, I think we were both pretty wasted. We stayed in the bar for a little longer before leaving out the back and appearing in a little alleyway. The sun had completely vanished behind the horizon and the sky had darkened to a soothing pitch black with only the dim light from the stars and a crescent moon.

While waiting for another taxi to come and pick us up to drive us back to the hotel, we got into a rather deep conversation. Hey, when you're drunk, sometimes you say things that you don't want to have heard.

"So Syn…" Micah started. I was surprised she wasn't slurring any of her words. But I was too drunk to care.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"You want to play a game?"

I shrugged, "sure. Nothing else to do."

"How about truth or dare?" she suggested.

"Sure. Ladies first," I smirked.

"Truth." I thought of a question that would help me get to know her better. Of course, my drunken brain went straight to relationships.

"How were your past relationships, if you've had any?" Her happy light green eyes had a sudden glimmer of fear. She seemed reluctant to answer the question, so I was about to say 'nevermind,' when she spoke up.

"Both of them ended up with the guys being arrested for domestic abuse." I widened my eyes. Even my trashed brain couldn't help but feel like hugging her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine. You asked for the truth and I gave you the truth," she interrupted. "Your turn."

"Truth." She thought for a bit.

"Are you in a relationship?" I see where this is going.

"No," I answered flatly. "Your turn."

"Truth." I noticed we both didn't risk any dares. Was it because we were drunk and stupid? Or was it because we both knew how it would end? With a sloppy mess of a kiss. I decided it was worth the risk to ask her the question I'd wanted to ask her for days.

"Do you think of either Matt, Zacky, or me as more than a friend?" She smiled sweetly.

"Yes." My hopes started to rise.

"Who?" I continued. She grinned evilly.

"If I say 'truth' again, you can ask." _Damn, she's good at playing this game. _I sighed.

"Fine. Truth." She seemed to have had a question already on her mind because she immediately asked it.

"What's your real name? I'm pretty sure I wouldn't see 'Syn Gates' on your birth certificate." There was no use in hiding it anymore. She would find out eventually, even if I didn't tell her.

"Brian," I said finally. She smiled again.

"Brian," she repeated, "that's a nice name."

"Thanks," I said, not finding any other thing to respond to that compliment. "Your turn." God, I sure hope she says 'truth.' She kept me hanging by keeping silent and making it seem like she was thinking.

"Truth." I inwardly cheered, 'hooray!'

"Which one of us three do you have feelings for?" She leaned in closer to me, making me pin myself against the wall of the alley.

Just before our lips could make any contact, she whispered, "who else would it be?" Her soft lips brushed against mine. I quickly took advantage of this move and captured her bottom lip, making her smirk against the kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck as my own arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to my body. The kiss deepened when our chests made a heated contact. Her tongue grazed over my lips, sending pleasured chills down my spine.

I gently teased her top lip with my teeth, making her quietly moan. Her fingers gripped my shoulders tightly. I gained enough confidence to push my tongue into her mouth. I felt happy when she responded back, letting her own tongue dance along with mine. Unfortunately, the kiss was broken off by the taxi rolling up on the street next to us. We both sighed, hopped into the back, and the taxi drove off towards the hotel.

I paid the driver when we arrived at the hotel. Just as Micah was about to open the door to our room, I kissed her for a brief second and smiled.

"Trust me, we won't be able to do this around Matt or Zacky for a while. It's better that we try and keep this a secret for as long as possible," I whispered. She nodded and returned the smile.

"Ay-ay, Captain," she joked, opening the door and stepping into the room. I closed the door gently. It was apparently pretty late at night because Matt and Zacky had already passed out. We climbed into bed. As I was just about to fall asleep, Micah whispered something to me.

"Brian."

"Yeah?" I whispered back.

"I only had two shots at the bar today." A long pause stood in the way of her confession.

"I was never drunk. I decided to mess with you… But don't get me wrong. I still have definite feelings for you." Despite the dirty game she pulled, I couldn't help but grin in amusement.

"Night, Micah."

_Zacky's POV_

I woke up to bright sunlight shining in my face. I have to say, I was getting quite tired of sleeping on the floor. My back always ached because of it. I stood up and yawned, stretching my arms into the air. The first thing I saw was quite interesting, I must say. I laid my eyes upon Brian and Micah. Brian, had yet again, slung his arm over Micah's body. But this time, Micah was unconsciously hugging his hand closer to her body. I tried to hold back some laughs. I shook Matt awake. He was about to yell at me for doing so, when I shushed him and pointed towards the intriguing sight.

He, too, couldn't help a good struggle to box in his laughter.

"That's too hilarious," Matt whispered. I shushed him again.

"Okay. I have a plan… just to see what's going on between them," I told him, me, grinning devilishly. Matt nodded and returned my grin.

"I'm listening."

_Micah's POV_

My eyes fluttered open. And for once, the sunlight in my eyes didn't bother me as much. Now that I knew Syn's real name, I absolutely refused to call him 'Syn' or 'Gates.' At least, not around Zacky or Matt. Soon after I'd woken up, Brian did too. I noticed that Zacky and Matt were gone. Maybe to go get breakfast or something? I wanted to take advantage of the fact that my acquaintances were not present.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked Brian in a low, husky tone.

"I see you finally realized Zacky and Matt have disappeared," he replied. I shifted so that I could face him. God, he was so handsome. Usually, you'd look worse in the morning, but Brian looked all the same as he normally did.

"We're alone," I commented, staring into his brilliant hazel eyes. He smiled and pulled me closer to his body, wrapping his other arm around me and tugging me into a hug. I happily rested my head against the warmth of his chest and listened to the slow, steady, and rhythmic beating of his heart. His hand stroked my long brunette hair.

"How long do you think we have?" I asked.

"Well… I assume they went to breakfast and they're both very slow eaters… so, maybe forty-five minutes? Give or take."

I grinned slyly. "Perfect." I made a quick move to pin him down by his wrists, with me on top. He grinned and laughed playfully. I leaned down and kissed him. We worked up to about the same point we got to the night before when the door burst open.

"JESUS CHRIST! I'M BLIND!" I heard Zacky cry.

"Lovely morning, isn't it? What do you think, Gates?" Matt teased. I heard Zacky and Matt burt into a fit of laughter. I looked to Brian and mouthed, 'well, I guess the cat's out of the bag.' In return, he silently mouthed back, 'so much for keeping a secret.' I thought that it was very likely that Matt and Zacky had plotted this from the beginning. I climbed off of Brian and hid myself under the covers of the bed. This wasn't humiliating, perse. But it certainly was a huge shock. Relationships are apparently harder to hide than sex toys…


	9. Chapter 8: Jokesters and Relocation

_Syn's POV_

_~A Couple Days Later~_

_**A/N: Please note that I am back at school and may skip days on uploading chapters. School is more important. If you like this story, please review, favorite, and follow. Thanks for the support. -SynfulLiving**_

Matt, Zacky and I actually managed to forget the fact that we had a job to do. We apparently stayed in one place for so long that it made us think we were on vacation. The longer we stayed in Seattle, the more dangerous it would become Matt, finally mentioned this and suggested we take another plane to another remote place. But both Zacky and me disagreed with the idea. I told him that Phoenix Fire had already found us before while we were in flight. We lived, sure. But we may not be so lucky if we were to be spotted again. So, we got a rental car and we were off to God-knows where.

To avoid as much teasing and mocking from Zacky and Matt as I could, Micah and I agreed to not sit together in the car. Though, arguably, we might have gotten mocked even more by doing so, with Matt saying, "aww. Did the relationship end so soon?" In which both, Micah and I scowled at him and I actually bashed him atop the head for good measure. He didn't tease for the rest of the way to a gas station. I couldn't say the same thing about Zacky though. Man, my friends are dicks.

I'd asked Matt where we were going, seeing as he was the one driving and he just said he had no clue. Helpful, he is. Don't you think? So, it seemed none of us knew where we were going. I guess we were just searching around for a remote area that no one would care to look at. Then an idea as to where we could go hit me.

"Matt," I called to him from inside the car. He was outside, filling the car with gas. He looked at me through the rolled-down window.

"We're close to the border of Montana, right?" I asked.

He nodded, "yeah? What of it?"

"Montana has some pretty remote cities and towns." He finally caught on to what I was saying.

"Yeah. I guess we could stop at a town in Montana for a few days," he agreed. Micah was asleep in the back of the car. Just so you could get a sense of the 'seating arrangements' in the car: I was in the passenger seat in the front with Matt, and Micah was in the back with Zacky, while all the clothing and miscellaneous items were thrown into the trunk. Zacky had gone inside the convenience store to buy another pack of cigarettes. After Matt got back into the car, we ended up waiting about ten minutes before Zacky turned up. He climbed into the car beside Micah.

"What the fuck took you so long?" Matt complained.

"We've been on the road for seven hours Matt. Is it not normal to have the need to use the bathroom after seven hours of driving, non-stop?" Zacky reasoned.

"It doesn't take ten minutes," Matt retorted.

"He doesn't have a girlfriend. He might have the need to do something other than use the bathroom," I hinted with an evil smirk, earning me a punch in the shoulder from Zacky, while Matt and I burst into laughter. Micah, being the light sleeper she is, woke right up when we started to laugh.

"Did I miss something?" she asked, looking to the very pissed-off looking Zacky.

"Well, we were just talking-" I started, only to be interrupted by Zacky.

"Don't you dare!"

"So that _is _what you were doing," I teased.

"It is not!"

"Could somebody fill me in?" Micah asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"Zacky's issues…" I said simply.

"He was in the bathroom a lot longer than he should have," Matt added. Zacky pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. She grinned slyly.

"Oh, I see. We understand Zacky," she laughed.

"Is everyone here suddenly against me?!" he shouted.

"Hey. This is payback for giving me and Micah shit about a relationship," I said with a frown.

"Then why isn't Matt getting any crap from you?!"

"Matt stopped. You didn't. The entire way here, you were going on about how badly this could end up. You're a five-year-old by heart, and you know it," I replied with a somewhat apologetic smile.

"Well, fuck you too, buddy," Zacky snapped, staring out the window and keeping quiet. I didn't worry too much about it though. Zacky is known to be quite forgiving. He'll come around. Besides, he brought it upon himself. He was bound to be teased back.

_Micah's POV_

_~Same day, midnight~_

Poor Zacky. But to be honest, his constant mocking wasn't just pissing off Brian, but me as well. I wouldn't go as far to say that he deserved it, though. But who am I kidding? It was absolutely hilarious. When we finally checked into a hotel at the first town we could find in Montana, we'd all agreed to have two rooms instead of one. We all knew how well staying in just the one room went back in Seattle. Of course, Zacky and Matt were in one room, while Brian and I were across the hall, in the other room. Because this was a low-end hotel, the walls were paper-thin, and the rooms were quite a bit smaller than big city hotels.

Still, it was fine with me, especially considering the fact that I'd lived in a tiny, dingy apartment for a few years. But I guess none of us cared because we were on the run. Pertaining to that subject, I hadn't noticed any sort of threat after the horrible plane assault which kept me in the hospital for a week. Knowing how my luck ran, it wouldn't be so peaceful for much longer.

The rest of the night was perfect, quiet, and calm. My dreamless sleep was unbothered. And that says something. For so many years, I'd always had nightmares that would keep me awake, or I'd be woken up by the sound of the pothead couple next door, in my apartment building, getting it on. It was kind of hard to think about, but I feel that my life had actually _improved _ever since I met the guys. And I feel it improved even more when Brian and I finally stopped waiting around in denial. Though I was asleep, I could still feel a genuine smile creep across my lips.


	10. Chapter 9: Sleep and Shitty Waitresses

_**A/N: This chapter's kinda short, but whatever. Enjoy. :D**_

_Micah's POV_

I woke up to a loud bang on the door. I groaned into my pillow complainingly and almost fell out of the bed when I got up. I walked slowly to the door and opened it. Matt and Zacky were standing in front of me. I leaned against the frame of the door and folded my arms over my chest.

"I take it, you guys came back to mock us?" I assumed with a serious frown.

"Although that would be fun and all, no, we didn't. We wondered if you guys wanted to come to breakfast with us," Matt said with a smile. I sighed and rubbed at my eyes. I was utterly exhausted. I never did well with going to bed late. And last night, we all fell asleep around one o'clock in the morning.

"Alright. I'll ask Syn," I answered, closing the door again and collapsing back on the bed, my eyes staring at the bland, white ceiling. I had no actual intention to get up and get breakfast.

"So they wanted us to go to breakfast with them?" I heard Brian ask in a lazy voice.

"You were awake?" He turned over so that he could face me.

"Their annoying voices used to be my alarm clock every morning," he replied with a smirk.

I chuckled a bit, "How do you put up with them?"

"They've been my close friends for about ten years. Give or take. Sometimes, they're complete assholes," he paused when he saw me raise my brows in a way that said, 'no, really?'

"And other times, they're the best friends anyone could have," he explained with an innocent smile. It was true though. Even _I _knew, without knowing them for more than a week and a half, that Matt and Zacky could be really sweet people.

"Well. Since I told them I'd ask you about breakfast… Are you coming with us?" I asked, unconsciously changing the subject. He sighed.

"Yeah. I guess. But I've never been much for breakfast food. I'd probably only eat a little." I smiled and got up first, shutting myself in the bathroom, and slipping on a plain black tank top and a simple pair of dark blue jeans. Just to wake myself up more, I splashed some cold water in my face. It works every time. I remembered one time when I was late for school-years ago-and to get me out of bed, my dad dumped an ice-cold bucket of water on me. My life wasn't always extremely depressing. It only came to that after my parents died.

I sighed, staring at my reflection in the mirror, thinking over all of the many dangerous things that had happened to me lately. I personally believed that whatever happens to the guys, happen because of me. Sure, it was their job to keep me out of harm's way. But running and hiding could only do so much before we'd all be put in danger again.

"I should stop feeling sorry for myself," I mumbled to myself. I stepped out of the bathroom and laid back down on the end of the bed. Since Brian, like my father always did, slept in daytime clothes, he didn't have to change. So, he was still lazily sitting in the bed, only half awake.

"God, I don't feel like going _anywhere_," I complained. He laughed quietly.

"You and me, both. But, we pretty much already agreed to going with them to breakfast, so… I think we _have _to go," he said, wobbling on his feet when he stood up. I got up too, however reluctant I was to do so, and headed across the hall to Zacky and Matt's room. I knocked on their door and Zacky was the one to open it.

"It's about time. Man, usually our voices in the morning would be enough to wake up Syn," he greeted.

"Your voices _did _wake me up. I just tried to ignore the fact that you two dicks woke me up at seven in the morning," Brian replied with a frown. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who absolutely despised being woken up too early in the morning.

"Matt! Get your ass up, or we're leaving without you," Zacky shouted at Matt, who, for some reason, was laying on the floor in their room. He stood up and shuffled his feet across the floor as if he was too lazy to pick them up. But I suppose it wasn't that he was lazy, rather, it was that he had a busted kneecap. And, for no reason at all, he refused to wear the knee brace given to him by the Seattle hospital. I wish he knew that the longer he didn't wear the brace, the longer the injury would be there. Not to mention, it would probably become a chronic condition or it would simply never heal _and _be more painful than it was when he first got the injury. I swear they could be stubborn idiots sometimes. Even Brian too.

I'm pretty sure Zacky had been trying to saw his arm cast off with a butter knife at the dinner table a couple nights ago. And Brian just keeps soaking his cast in water, hoping it would just melt off his wrist… even though the hospital used waterproof casting material. Oh, but they were a fun bunch of friends. I felt that I'd known them for more than just a week and a half. They already felt like the family I never really had.

For breakfast, we headed down the road a bit and found a little cafe. The menu didn't come with many options at all… It was really a menu full of food that you could have made at home. Nevertheless, there was no other _real _option for breakfast in the tiny town we decided to settle in. I don't even think it had a name. I think it was just a useless place no one cared much for. The waitress didn't seem to care about life at all, and she looked overly worked over with boredom. _I guess we'll tip her a quarter for her efforts, _I joked in my head.

As Brian had said, he didn't eat much. The only thing that actually seemed to appeal to him on the menu was a huge plate of hash browns. Hey, I don't judge… because that's the only thing the appealed to me too. I _hate _eggs. Always have. And this menu, is almost _all_ based around eggs. It's gross. They even look disgusting too… All jiggly and yellow. One bad combination, that… But you don't want to hear me ramble on about how I hate eggs.

But Zacky and Matt, on the other hand, ordered two huge omelets and a big plate of bacon. Here, this makes me wonder how they maintain their thin weights with eating this much junk. After breakfast, we'd pretty much just went back to the hotel and slept… And if you were wondering, yes, we did indeed, tip the shitty waitress the generous quarter.


	11. Chapter 10: Stranger Danger

_Syn's POV_

So, we apparently slept almost the entire day after breakfast because, when we woke up, it was around eight o'clock at night. It seems like Micah's new favorite spots to be, are rooftops. While the hotel we were staying at was small and old, it still had a well-kempt roof to go up to. After I dragged myself back out of bed, I headed up to the roof to meet up with her. She was sitting and staring up at the clear night sky.

"Hey, Mi," I greeted, sitting down next to her.

"Hey," she said with a little smile. We gazed up at the stars in silence for a long moment.

"They're beautiful, aren't they? The stars. There are so many of them, yet there's still peace among them," she said softly, thought written all over her features. I nodded and smiled.

"Yeah. They are," I agreed. She laughed slightly.

"What?" I asked with a small eyebrow twitch of confusion. She shook her head, but kept her sparkling smile.

"Nothing. Just very old memories from when I was a kid. I remembered dragging my mom and dad outside one night just because I thought I'd seen UFO. It was stupid. I was just seven, though, so I guess it's only understandable for my imagination to be on crack at that age." I tired to hold back a fit of laughter.

"You and your odd metaphors," I commented with a sigh. But, every time she mentioned her parents, I'd feel guilty. I was the one who let them die. I knew I would have to tell her at some point. But I decided I would hold on to the secret a little longer.

"Why can't the world be like the stars? They work together to create something so pretty. But why can' people get along the same way?" Yet another thoughtful question that I couldn't answer very easily. She was right though. People always have bad thoughts about each other, even if it was about their closest friend.

"Because everyone is different. I'm a person who believes that there's good and evil in the world. But it seems that evil outweighs the good. None of us still don't know what Phoenix Fire want's with that ring of yours, but their actions say it isn't for the good of anyone else but them," I replied truthfully. She looked down into her lap.

"Do you remember the day you saved me?" she asked, meeting my eyes. Her usual dancing green eyes had faded into something I couldn't quite distinguish. I nodded.

"Yeah."

"The Phoenix Fire member… when he said something along the lines of 'when the girl's mother and father disappeared,' I couldn't help but wonder if he was talking about my parents." _Damn, it was like she read my mind. _I thought for a long while, debating whether I should tell her or not. No, I told myself. I'm not going to lie to her. I took a deep breath.

"He was. And by 'disappeared...' he meant, 'died,'" She nodded slowly.

"So… Were you protecting them? And if you were, was it for the same reason you're protecting me?" she asked. I nodded again, not finding many words to say.

"Yes. They were captured right out from under my nose. I should have paid attention more. But I was younger, and stupider than I am today," I explained, hoping I wouldn't get blown up at. She smiled. Unexpected, that reaction.

"I'm not mad at you, if you were wondering. My parents were good people. And I'm sure you were too. You just needed to try a little harder." She's more forgiving than Matt when I steal his sandwiches.

"Hey, you wanna go for walk? Not that this town is anything special to look at. I just thought it would be nice," I suggested.

"Sure. I'd love to."

We walked side-by-side, my hands stuffed in the pockets of my leather jacket, both of us staring around and admiring the… non-existent scenery? I didn't really care though. It was really only nice because of how quiet it was. It was getting cold though. I didn't really mind, but it looked to me that Micah, who only wore a plain black tank top, was starting to shiver.

"You cold?" She nodded. I slipped off my leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled sweetly at the kind gesture and stuck her arms through the sleeves.

"Thanks, Brian," she said gratefully.

"Won't you be cold though?" she asked. I shrugged and shook my head.

"No. Me being from California, it feels nice to be away from the heat every once in a while. Of course, I guess you're from California too"

She shook her head, "didn't my mom or dad tell you? We moved to California when I was about fifteen or sixteen. Technically I grew up in Minnesota. I still haven't gotten used to the cold after all those years. And I prefer the heat anyways."

"Well, we found something we could disagree on, finally," I laughed.

"Yeah. We seem to agree on everything. But I guess climate is different." We stepped into the beginnings of a dark alleyway when I saw three, shady-looking guys all dressed in black glaring at us. We turned around and started to walk the other way to avoid trouble when another two guys showed up. We froze, staring at them with fear. My eyes drifted down to the collarbone of one of the guys. He had a detailed tattoo of a 'P.'

"Oh. This isn't good," I whispered, looking behind me, only to see that the three other guys had crept closer to us.

"Grab the girl," one of them ordered. Micah looked around frantically for a way out. The two guys in front of grabbed Micah and dragged her away from my side. I reached for her hand but I was soon assaulted with a punch in the ribs. I collapsed to my knees in pain, keeling over, and gripping at my side, where I'd been hit.

"Brian!" Micah shouted with concern. She was kicking and flailing around desperately in the guys' grasp. I saw the guy who'd punched me, pull a gun and point it straight at my head.

"You have five seconds, _girl. _You get to decide the fate of this little bastard. Which will it be? You surrender and he lives, or, you don't surrender, and a bullet blows through his head. Your choice." Micah stared at me, searching my eyes for the answer. Everything in my right mind was telling her to forget me and run.

"5." And the countdown had begun. Sweat was beading at her forehead.

"4." Her breaths were uneven and she was shaking with fear.

"3." She just sat there, looking on at the probably horrific scene unfolding before her.

"2." I saw her mouth the words, 'I'm sorry.'

"1." The man hissed.

"Stop!" Micah screamed. "Stop." She'd quieted down. "I surrender." The man grinned and pointed the gun somewhere at my torso and pulling the trigger. I felt a searing hot pain pierce the skin near my heart.

"Very well. Your wish is my command."

"No!" she wailed before being knocked out by being thrown against the cement wall of the alley. I saw a black SUV pull up in the back of the alley as the guys all began loading her into the back. All of the guys hopped into the car except for one of them, the guy with the gun. He kneeled down next to my lumped form. My breathing was a ragged mess and I heard the blood roaring in my ears as my vision started to fade to black.

"I'm not good at keeping my promises," he muttered in a murderous tone. He closed my eyelids over but I was too weak to open them again.

"Sweet dreams, Synyster Gates."

_**A/N: Wonder what happens next? You're gonna have to wait... sowwy.**_


	12. Chapter 11: Depression and Salvation

_**A/N: Sowwy. Short chapter but it just had that one quote that ends it all! :D**_

_Micah's POV_

I woke from my sudden unconsciousness. My vision was a complete blur and my head hurt like hell. I remembered being thrown against a wall and then passing out. That couldn't be too good for my recently healed skull fracture. I blink a couple times, laying my eyes upon a familiar man; The man who'd shot Brian.

"You…" I hissed. I found no reason to try and attack him though. My hands were tightly bound to the wall by chains and the skin on my wrists was already raw from the metal cuffs digging into them.

"What _about _me?" He was grinning now.

"Could it be that I left your little friend for dead? Or…" he dug into his pockets and fished out a ring hanging from a little chain, "is it because your family legacy is now in the hands of Phoenix Fire?" I was glaring at him, coldly, and heartlessly. His grin grew, if even possible and he shrugged.

"Not that you'd be so dark to choose which one is more important to you. Now…" He kneeled down in front of me to come level with my glaring, angered eyes.

"Where is your brother?" he asked, his tone serious. I jerked my head away from him when he started to trace a line down my jaw. He laughed quietly under his breath.

"Well, if you're not going to talk…" He raised his hand and slapped me square across the cheek, making my face sting and burn.

"How the hell should I know," I mumbled, resuming my glare on his dark gray eyes. His sinister laugh got louder.

"He _is _your brother, yes? I'm sure those guys that are protecting you have told you where he is, no?" I stayed silent but thought, _no, they haven't. _

"Oh, they haven't, have they? That's a shame. You see, I was hoping I couldn't shed so much blood for this measly question. I guess I'll have to go seek out your other two friends." I widened my eyes, terrified. If I'd lost Brian, I certainly didn't want to lose Zacky or Matt. He stood up and began walking away.

"Don't!" I shouted after him. He ignored my plea and turned around the corner. I was just left with three heavily armed guards in the room. I was stuck with just my thoughts and the horrific scene of Brian getting shot replaying in my mind. I refused to let the tears fall, not in front of the men who already thought I was weak. Seconds, minutes, and hours passed by, all of my worries haunting my mind about whether he'd found and killed Zacky and/or Matt. It feels as if days of silence and the awful memory of Brian getting shot replaying for the thousandth time had passed by before I noticed a shadow creep across the wall on the far side of the room. The shadow was only a little blur in my sight.

It didn't grab much of my attention though. It was probably just one of the Phoenix Fire men. It was only until, out of the blue, one of the guards had fallen dead on the ground, scarlet liquid pooling around his limp body. A second one too, fell. The guard right next to me was obviously suspicious and angry at this point. I noticed the keys dangling from his belt in the back-they were probably the keys that would unlock these cursed shackles around my wrists. I took advantage of the small window of opportunity I had to set myself free.

I swung my foot around, as hard as I possibly could, and swept the guard off his feet, making him collapse clumsily to the ground. Just for good measure, I crashed my foot down onto his ribs to keep him down, long enough for me to grab the keys and unlock the shackles around my wrists. I shook out my bloodied wrists and stood to my feet, taking the guard's handgun and stuffing it in my back pocket.

"Micah!" someone called. It was Zacky's voice. He stepped out of the shadows of a dark corner. I stared at him. He had worry painted all over his face.

"We don't have time to stand here and stare at each other," he said, grabbing my arm, taking into consideration that my wrists were raw,scabbed and very pained. We sprinted out through the rusted metal door to the apparent abandoned factory building of which I was supposedly kept in. He got into the car that we'd been driving around for a while and I sat myself in the front passenger seat, not worrying about the seatbelt. He started up the car and began driving, at full speed, away from the building.

"Zacky," I started with a quiet voice. He looked at me as a sign of acknowledgement.

"Is Syn okay?" I thought it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Define 'okay,'" he breathed. Did he think this was a joke?

"Zacky." My voice had grown louder and more stern. His eyes widened slightly.

"Is Syn okay?" I emphasized every word. He sighed.

"No."


	13. Chapter 12: Second Heartbeat

_Micah's POV_

"Matt said they were taking him to this hospital," Zacky said, though I wasn't really paying any attention to anything he said. Brian wasn't okay. Sure, he got shot, but it's always good to hope for the best. From what I currently knew, the best outlook didn't happen. I was pacing around in the waiting room of the hospital when Matt came through the double doors, signaling us to walk down the hallway with him. We came up on a window that had its curtains pulled over to hide anything behind it from view.

"Syn's in that room," Matt said, sitting down on the bench across from the curtained window.

"What are they doing?" I asked in a quivering voice, sitting next to Matt on the bench.

"They've been in there for three hours, trying to resuscitate him." I nodded. I could hear _everything_ going on in that room. It drew my attention away from Matt and Zacky. There was a lot of medical babble that didn't make sense to me but there was one… single… sound, that made me panic. That was the sound of a flatline on a heartrate monitor. Apparently Zacky and Matt heard it too, because when I shot straight up, they both grabbed me by the arms and sat me back down.

"You can't do anything, Micah," Matt said in a solemn tone. At that very moment, I'd shut every single sound out of my head-all but one. The flatline. All I could hope for was that none of the doctors or nurses call a 'time of death.' I heard the repetitive shock of defibrillators resonating from the room. If I was correct, they only had four minutes to get his heart going again before he couldn't be brought back. It was common knowledge. I counted the seconds and minutes as they went by. Two minutes of the flatline, and his heart wouldn't budge.

The third minute went by. Still, no response. I counted all the way up to four minutes and then the tears began to fall. I didn't even want to stick around for the doctors to call the time of death. I stood up slowly and walked my way out to the waiting room. Zacky and Matt got the hint, and didn't follow me. I laid down on one of the little sofas, and buried my face into the leather jacket Brian gave me. I stared down at the floor for over an hour. I was too afraid to close my eyes-to still have the replaying vision of the guy shooting Brian. I would rather die than see that again.

A passing nurse had noticed the torn skin on my wrists and the gash on my forehead and she offered to bandage them up for me. I agreed. She tried to start a conversation with me but I responded to none of her questions as she wrapped my wrists in gauze. She stopped after a while. She'd finally caught on to the fact that I was suffering way more than just a head gash and some wrist wounds. My heart had been torn to little pieces and thrown into a pit of fire.

_Matt's POV_

I seemingly stared into nowhere. I'd just lost one of my best friends. The world was an absolutely cruel place. Brian didn't deserve this. The only 'crime' he ever committed was stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar. He was, by no means, a bad person. Even though Micah had only known him for a short while, I couldn't even _begin _to imagine how she felt about this. A nurse walked out of the room. But she didn't seem to have a sad or sullen look on her face, but more like… Hope? She stood in front of us.

"We didn't call the time of death," she said flatly. I couldn't help but furrow my brows in confusion.

"I really hate to ask, but why?" She sighed.

"There _is _one way that we could turn this around." I brightened up a bit.

"But it's extremely risky. He would be lucky to make it through," she warned. I looked to Zacky and he nodded, seemingly knowing what I was thinking.

"Whatever it is, it's better than letting him die without a chance."

_Micah's POV_

I was fiddling around with the gauze that was wrapped around my hands-nothing better to do-when I saw Matt and Zacky walk up to me. I only acknowledged their presence by looking up at them. Matt, nor Zacky had the face of a recently devastated friend.

"What? Did you guys go drown your sorrows by smoking some weed in the back?" I grumbled. They looked to each other, wearing confused looks.

"Uh… No. They said they could try something," Matt replied. I gave a suspicious stare.

"What _kind_ of 'something' are they suggesting?" I asked.

"They said they could try and get the bullet out of his heart while it's not beating. The bullet is what caused the flatline in the first place. They think if they could get the bullet out, they could try resuscitating him again," he explained.

"Yeah. But his body would start deteriorating without the blood circulating," I reasoned. Matt shook his head.

"They said that while they're getting the bullet out, they'd have him on a bypass machine. It circulates the blood instead of the heart." This started to sound convincing but there's most likely, a catch. There's always a catch.

"Cool. What _aren't _you telling me, though?" I asked. He sighed.

"The nurse said he'd be very lucky to survive this. It's a long shot from what _I _got out of it." _That's what I thought, _I inwardly spoke to myself. But I guess it was worth the long shot. It was better to give him a second chance, than to leave him to die without trying.

"Go for it."


	14. Chapter 13: Hopes and Annoyances

_Micah's POV_

We were all waiting, again, behind the room where Brian was undergoing major surgery. The only problem with us going along with this procedure, is the fact that if they were to fail, we'd basically watch the same friend die for the second time. I sighed and laid down on the floor, off to the side of the hallway. There was only one thing we could do-wait. I shut everything I possibly could out of my mind, and closed my eyes. I was glad when I realized I wouldn't be haunted by another terrifying vision of Brian getting shot once I'd fallen asleep.

I continued a cycle of waking up and falling back asleep the entire night. The point of which I gave up on sleep was when it was already seven o'clock in the morning. My neck felt sore from laying on the floor all night and my headaches had come back with a vengeance. My wrists burned like hell. I stared at the still curtained window. Ten hours and they still weren't done. Either that, or they were too afraid to bring us bad news again.

The same nurse that had bandaged my wrists and head walked by again.

"You've been here all night. You want a snack, or some water?" she offered politely. Zacky and Matt were both passed out on the floor. I shook my head.

"No. I'm good," I replied with a frown. She looked down at me, her icy blue eyes filled with understanding.

"I know my job doesn't really allow me to do this, but, if you don't mind, could you tell me why you look so beaten up? Not to mention, sad?" I sighed. I did kind of mind, but it wouldn't hurt to tell her.

"I got attacked," I paused, looking to the door of the room, "and he did too." My voice was a raspy whisper.

"Do we need to call the police? Have them investigate?" she asked, worry written on her face.

"No," I said loudly, but immediately quieting down, "no. We don't." She quirked a brow at my reaction.

"If you both were attacked. And apparently, if the attack was so bad that he's been in surgery for ten hours, I think the police need to get involved," she said.

"And I said, 'no.'" I didn't want to risk telling her anything that had to do with us. Lately, I've been taught to trust no one except for the people protecting me.

"Why are you so against the idea of the police getting involved?" She started to sound irritated.

"Why are _you_ so hellbent on getting the story?" I retorted. Another nurse walked up to her.

"What are you doing, April? As a nurse at this hospital, we expect you to respect people's privacy," she said, dragging 'April, the nosey nurse' to her feet. The other nurse, who was short with gray hair and faded hazel eyes, looked at me apologetically.

"I'm so sorry. April's a new nurse here. And she still hasn't learned to respect the rules." The last sentence was spat angrily. I was guessing that the other nurse was April's mentor. The nurse tugged April a little farther away from me, just inside of earshot. I could hear them shoot whispers at each other.

"You don't interrogate families and friends of patients, April. It's not acceptable. I would be surprised if the Dean of Medicine doesn't fire you by the end of the week," the nurse sneered.

"The conversation started out fine until she refused calling the police," April said.

"It's her call whether the police get involved or not. That's the state law. Learn it."

"I was just curious."

"Your curiosity could've caused her more pain than you'd like to imagine. You see this room, right here?" The nurse pointed to the room where Brian was still undergoing surgery. April took a quick glance and then glared back at her mentor.

"What of it?" There was a harsh attitude in her voice.

"They've been here all night because their friend is about to be a deadman. You better learn to respect other people, or you'll be booted on back to your homeless lifestyle," the nurse threatened. Shivers crawled up my spine at the sound of the word, 'deadman.' I couldn't stand to think of any scenario where Brian dies at the time.

"She said they were attacked. What was I supposed to suggest? Shake it off like it was nothing?"

"I don't care. You shouldn't have asked her in the first place. You should be grateful she gave you an answer at all." I started to get fed up with their conversation.

"I can hear you. But of course, keep talking about me while I can still hear you," I interrupted with biting sarcasm. April shot a glare at me but her mentor just smiled and said, "I'm sorry. I was just trying to get my student under control." I rolled my eyes and went back to staring into nowhere. All I wanted at the moment, was to know that Brian was going to be okay. But of course, everyone knows that I can't have one little happy thing happen to me without life throwing it back in my face by giving me an unfair bad situation in return. When I looked over again, the nurses had disappeared.

_Thank God,_ I thought. I was getting tired of them babbling on about me _while_ they were right next to me. I sighed, laying back down on the stone-cold, white, tiled floor. I had nothing to do but stare at things. I wished there were any magazines that were _actually _interesting to read. In hospitals, almost ninety-nine point nine percent of those magazines are about pregnancy and 'How to Be a Mom.'

After an hour or so, Zacky and Matt woke up at about the same time. None of them bothered me with any conversations or questions. They just got up and went to the cafeteria for some breakfast, leaving me alone with only my own thoughts. I honestly didn't get how it could possibly take, now eleven hours, to extract a bullet. Sure, I understood that poking around at someone's heart without a care in the world wasn't a good plan. But I found it hard to believe that, even when dealing with a sensitive organ like the heart, it would take so long to do this sort of surgery.

Aside from my worries over Brian, I began to think about why April had taken such a keen interest in me. From what I'd gathered, she had no idea about Brian being in such bad shape. Was it simply because I had odd injuries around my wrists? No. It couldn't be _that _plain and simple. But at the same time, it could be. Being a nurse, she'd certainly seen gloomy families and friends around the hospital before. So it couldn't have been the fact that I looked sad that she was interested in me. I shook my head and dropped the thought. There was no point in thinking about it too much. Chances were that I would never see her again.

I _was _hungry, but I didn't want to leave just in case, by some miracle, I would receive good news. I didn't really think it was even possible to be in surgery for more than nine hours. But I guess, by technical terms, Brian _is _dead. Being hooked up to a bypass pretty much means that you have a machine circulating healthy blood through an already dead body. Your body doesn't do the work. The machine does. I truthfully started to think that, this wasn't just a long shot. It was an impossible project.

Zacky and Matt came back and sat on either side of me on the rather uncomfortable bench. Zacky was drinking from a half-empty water bottle and Matt just sat there, his eyes hidden by his dark sunglasses. Patience wasn't one of my strong suits. But I knew it wouldn't help anything to bang on the door and tell the surgeons to hurry the hell up.

It wasn't until another hour had passed by before, finally, a nurse came through the door and faced us. I didn't really acknowledge her presence. It wasn't like I expected good news.

"Your friend is very lucky," was her opening statement. I looked up when I heard that. Neither Zacky, Matt, nor I said anything. So she continued.

"He's not out of the woods yet, though. The bullet shredded one of the valves. He survived the surgery but, we can tell you, that the recovery would be an even bigger struggle." We all nodded. We weren't smiling because it wasn't exactly 'good' news. But we weren't looking very depressed anymore because it also wasn't exactly 'bad' news. It was what I would call 'bittersweet news.'


	15. Chapter 14: Goodbyes and Life

_Micah's POV_

_~Next Day~_

Nurses had moved Brian to the ICU. They said that, because he had such a weak pulse and very low blood pressure, he would have to be on 24/7 watch in intensive care. I guess that comes with being _technically dead _for twelve hours, right? To be honest, I was surprised they were able to bring him back in the first place. But I wasn't going to dwell on the fact that it was an almost impossible miracle. He was still unconscious, but I would like to say that if he were to be awake, he'd probably be in a lot of pain. For now, I think it was better to have him unconscious.

I decided I would pay him back for what _he _did when I was hospitalized. The only time I would leave his room was for food at the cafeteria or to go to the bathroom. I found it hard to believe that, with all that's gone wrong in his body, he still looked as perfect in this form of unconsciousness as he usually did in his regular sleep. Zacky and Matt came in occasionally. But, as they did so in Seattle, they stayed back at the hotel most of the time.

What great friends they are. Of course, being guys, they probably _did _care. They just didn't want to show it. Me being in his room all the time, I also witnessed every moment where his heart relapsed into a flatline. When that nurse said the recovery would be even more of a struggle, she wasn't at all kidding. I kept thinking, time after time, after time, that maybe the next point where his heart stops, they wouldn't be able to start it again. Nevertheless, I stayed there at the hospital for moral support. It was the only remotely helpful thing I could do at the time.

I was, unfortunately so, reading one of the hospital magazines when Matt and Zacky came through the door. Since there was only one chair in the room, and that's the char I was sitting in, they both just sat down on the floor next to me.

"How's he holding up?" Matt asked, not turning to face me when he did.

"At least three flatlines every day. Give or take," I sighed in response. They both nodded.

"Micah?" Zacky started.

"Yeah?"

"I think I can probably guess, but, what exactly happened?" I sighed again. I didn't really feel like going into that conversation, but I knew I had to at some point in the near future. There was no point in hiding it.

"We went out for a walk, and then we got attacked by five guys. I didn't know that they were Phoenix Fire members until I woke up in an abandoned building with a guy who'd taken my ring. But, I guess Syn knew, because when we were getting cornered, he said 'this isn't good.' He realized that they were Phoenix Fire members just before…" I paused, not wanting to have another replay in my head of the scenario.

"Before he… Was shot," I said finally, feeling a little nauseous just saying it, let alone, seeing it again in my head.

"He could have seen the mark that the higher ranks in Phoenix Fire _all_ have," Matt said. I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"What mark?"

"All high-ranking members have a tattoo on their collarbones. It's usually a 'P' or an 'F,'" Zacky explained.

"I hate to put Syn's health on hold, but the more important issue here, is that the ring is now in their hands. Chris asked us to keep you and the ring safe until further instruction. You're safe but the ring's not. We need to figure out where it is and how to get it back," Matt said seriously. I thought for a bit, and remembered… There was an even _bigger _problem.

"Guys, there's another problem. It's probably worse than that one." They stared at me, curious.

"Phoenix Fire is looking _everywhere _for you two. They don't have any need for me, but they apparently need you guys. They wanted to know where my brother is." Matt pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration while Zacky continued to stare.

"We _definitely _can't let that information slip," Matt muttered.

"We also can't stay in this location for much longer. They _will _find us, and soon," Zacky said, spreading himself out on the floor.

"It's not like we can _go _anywhere," Matt said, pointing his finger at the unconscious Brian.

"I don't think he's in any shape to be walking around." I got a sudden idea. It was crazy, but I thought it could work.

"What if you guys left and I stayed with Syn. They don't have any need for us. You two can leave the area. We'd be left unharmed and you guys won't be found," I explained my theory matter-of-factly. They looked to each other.

Zacky shrugged, "I'm cool with that. But where should we go? If you don't know where we go, we're going to be a scattered mess."

Matt smirked, "we could pay good ol' Chris a visit." Zacky returned the smirk, making me slightly confused.

"Well, if you're going to do that, I should know where Chris is," I said.

"Tallahassee in Florida. We can call you to keep you updated," Matt replied. We all nodded our agreement. Zacky and Matt left the room, leaving me alone once again. I knew that I wouldn't see them again for at least another week. And that's only if Brian miraculously gets better in _two _days, because I knew that anyone who underwent major surgery isn't allowed to travel for five to seven days after the _full _recovery.

I went back to reading the agonizingly boring magazine for about five minutes until I heard a knock on the frame of the door(the door was always open). I only had to look at the person's shoes to know that it was a nurse.

"You're a nurse. I'm sure you don't have to knock on the door of the patient you're supposed to take care of," I remarked.

"For how old you are, you seem very juvenile." I sighed. I knew that voice.

"So, Nurse April, you come here to bombarde me with questions about my personal life again? Or are you just here to stare at an unconscious patient?"

"Neither," she said, taking a few steps toward me.

"Nurse Hyland, my mentor, thought it would be a great idea to have me do the recovery checks for this one," she explained, pointing to Brian.

"Why?" I said, still not looking up from the awful magazine.

"Oh, love you too. What are you, five?" she retorted. I chuckled a bit.

"Like I haven't heard that one before. Could you _please _tell me why she told you to do this?"

"She wants me to learn how to get along with patients' relatives and friends. And by the way you two look, you must be friends."

"Dashing. I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. Besides, what's the point of a recovery nurse if the patient isn't recovering very well?" I asked, finally taking the time to look at her.

"Obviously, you've never really looked into what a recovery nurse does," she said, taking a patient file, presumably Brian's, and reading it.

"No. But I don't really care."

"Why do you have to be so bitter? We barely know each other and we act like we're bitches in high school."

"Again with the questions," I breathed.

"Yeah. Again with the questions. I'd like them answered."

"Don't expect too much, sweetheart."

"Why are you so angry with me? I asked you questions. That's it." I stared at her, coldly and darkly.

"Let me answer your question with another question. Have you had to deal with being attacked and kidnapped, and then saved, and right after you think things have turned for the better, you realize your boyfriend is technically dead on a surgery table, having a bullet taken out of his heart, and even after the surgery is over, his condition continues to decline?" Man, that was a mouthful. But that pretty much summed up my life in the past couple weeks, right?

"Well, no," she replied, looking dumbfounded.

"Then, you have no idea."

"You're damn straight I have no idea. I would have an idea if you answered my questions."

"What made you take an interest in me, anyway?" I asked.

"Because you were walking around the waiting room with odd wounds on both wrists and you had a horrible gash on your head. You also looked really sad. It's not everyday that a nurse comes across distressed people with injuries that can only occur through criminal abuse."

"Well I guess you know now, through my answer-through-a-question that I was kidnapped. Isn't that all you wanted to know?"

"I also think the police need to get involved. Because I also learned that your boyfriend here got shot. That is a felony of one of the highest offenses in Montana. Here, the victims could get arrested for not complying with investigations."

"They'll never find out." The conversation was over right then and there, because Brian's heart monitor, out of the blue, just went completely berserk. It was weird, because it wasn't a flatline this time. No, this time, his heart wasn't stopping, but it was beating about twice as fast as it normally should. It was unfortunate to say, but I began to get used to having this kind of scary event unfold before me. I wasn't too fazed anymore. I sat and watched intently as April went to work.

She glanced at the heart monitor.

"BP's skyrocketed," she muttered to herself. She rushed to a drawer and fished out a syringe with… some… liquid in it.

"210/120," she mumbled again, reaching into the drawer again and taking out, yet another syringe.

"We're gonna need two of these." She poked the first needle into his forearm, making the monitor beep only a little slower. She repeated with the second one. Again, the monitor still refused to slow much.

"How is he even alive?" she continued to whisper to herself. She went back to the drawer and pulled out another syringe, but the label said something different. Still, didn't really know what it said though. She poked this one into one of the IV tubes that fed into his hand. This came with an immediate effect. His heart suddenly started to beat normally again.

"What was the last thing you gave him?" I asked as she sighed a breath of relief.

"He may not be waking up for a while," she replied.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Comatose doses make blood pressure drop." I widened my eyes at the statement.

"You put him into a coma?" She nodded.

"Yeah. But what I find very interesting is that the extreme hypertension didn't cause his heart to dissect itself. Seriously, I hate to say it, but, I am really surprised he hasn't died yet." I stared at Brian's unconscious form with sadness washing over me.

"Yeah. You and me, both."


End file.
